The Not So Great Game
by HiddlesBatched98
Summary: Based on a picture prompt Does contain some of The Great Game Sherlock and John meet Jim at the pool and the bomb goes off. Sherlock is lucky enough to survive, but can the same be said for John?
1. Chapter 1

_"John, is he alive?"_

_"He wasn't as lucky as you. He didn't land in the pool. Sherlock... They're not sure he'll make it"_

It all started two days ago during the case that John had so pleasantly called "The Great Game". He'd constantly blog about it as they went along and they got closer and closer to the man behind all the hurt and pain caused to several people, like they were parts of a puzzle and Sherlock had to put together the pieces. James Moriarty was a wicked man, like a spider and Sherlock was his fly to tease and torture.

Sherlock arrived at the swimming pool, gun in his pocket, walking slowly and carefully. John came through a door at the side of the pool between two sets of changing rooms, parka coat on and bombs attatched to him, blinking SOS in morse code, but clearly Sherlock, the great detective, wasn't picking up on it. Jim came from round the corner, smirking a little.

"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket... Or are you just pleased to see me?"

Sherlock frowned slightly, staring at Jim as he moved in his direction. He raised the pistol, aiming it at Jim. "Both"

Moments passed, Jim and Sherlock were still at it before Jim decided to leave. Both Sherlock and John were glad about this, but they weren't to know what was going to happen when he did. Jim turned away from Sherlock "Ciao Sherlock" and walked towards the door that John had came through earlier.

"Catch...you...later"

"No you won't!" Jim half sung as the door slammed behind him. He took out his phone and text Sebastian. The text read:

_Sebastian. You know what to do. -JM_

Sebastian acknowledged the text and set up his sniper to aim for the bomb, which Sherlock had just ripped from John's body. "Easy" He whispered to himself as he started to shake. He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, covering his head as the bomb exploded.

Sherlock and John were launched into the air from the impact of the explosion. Sherlock was thrown into the swimming pool, meaning he had the chance of survival, John however, was not. Sebastian quickly scrambled out of the building unscathed and drove off. Passers by of the building watched as it collapsed around Sherlock and John and they immediately phone all three services to the site.

Sherlock was pulled from the swimming pool with a few cuts and bruises on his arms and legs, the paramedics positive that he would survive. John however, was dug up from the rubble, his injuries more serious, his cuts deeper and more life threatening, more than small bruises in every location on his body, the worst on the side of his head. They were both rushed to hospital. Sherlock came round two days later, today. John was in a coma, the doctors were unsure he would make it.

Mycroft sat at Sherlock's bedside, he had always worried about his little brother, even though he had hated him for leaving him during their educational years. He watched and waited as Sherlock slowly came round.

"Mycroft? What are you doing here?" Sherlock looked straight at Mycroft, confused by his location

"Because, brother mine, I care about you. You nearly died"

"Died? What _are _you on about? Why am I in hospital?"

"You are here Sherlock, because two days ago at the pool, you and John were involved in Moriarty's schemes. The bomb exploded and both you and John were hurt. James seemed to make it out alive, along with Sebastian."

"John, is he alive?"

"He wasn't as lucky as you. He didn't land in the pool. Sherlock... They're not sure he'll make it"

Sherlock stared at his brother, what was he on about? He had no recollection of what had happened at the pool after Moriarty left. He was unaware of landing in the pool, he was unaware of the explosion. He just hoped John would make it, he hoped he would end up like he had, awake and free to go home in a few days.


	2. Chapter 2

The doctor walked in and Mycroft glanced over at him. He shifted a little in his seat and watched as he walked over to Sherlock.

"Ah, Sherlock Holmes, I see you are awake." He smiled and looked down at his chart, and then walked over to his IV line and adjusted it "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, asking how I'm feeling, when I'm in a hospital, how typical" Sherlock rolled his eyes slightly.

"Sherlock, be nice" Mycroft sighed and then got up "I will be back in a few minutes, I'm hungry"

"What happened to the diet, Mycroft?"

Mycroft threw him a glare and then walked out, rolling his eyes as the door closed behind him. Sherlock laughed a little, holding his chest because it was hurting when he laughed. He turned to face the doctor, who was now writing on the chart.

"Can I see John?" He looked hopeful, but he was going to be shot down.

"Unfortunately not, for you see, Mr Holmes, Dr Watson cannot have any visitors yet and you are not allowed out of this room yet"

In John's room, John was on life support. The blow to his head that he had recieved from the changing room hitting him upon the explosion had done a lot more damage than anyone had first thought. He was connected to several IV lines, he had a cannula so he could breathe. It was a dreadful sight.

A few days later, Sherlock was able to leave his room to see John. Mycroft was with him for moral support, he knew how his brother could get despite telling him all the time that caring is not an advantage. He stumbled to his feet, causing Mycroft to immediately come to his side and wrap an arm around him to walk him to John's room. When they got there, Sherlock's face dropped, he couldn't believe what he was seeing, he didn't want to believe what he was seeing. Mycroft looked down, seeing John like this was getting to him just as much as it was getting to Sherlock and he tried to fight it. They both sat down, Sherlock was silent.

Mycroft looked up at one of the nurses "He's been like this for a week already. Do you know when he's going to wake up?"

"No, sorry Mr Holmes, we can't say if he ever will wake up"

At that moment, Mycroft looked back at Sherlock, who had just swallowed hard. He was sweating and his face was flushing red. Mycroft didn't know what to do. Sherlock stared at John, he stared at the mess he was in, thinking that it should be him in that position, not John, not his bestfriend, the man who was willing to give his life to stop Moriarty in his tracks just for him. He put his head in his hands and broke down into tears, thoughts running wild in his head. 'What if it was him?' 'Why is John in this position?' and 'Would John stay for me if I was like that?'. He couldn't stand the thought of losing him.

Mycroft shifted closer to his brother. Though he never really payed attention to his feelings, kept them in and locked them at the back of his mind, now was the time to pay attention to Sherlock's. He put his arm around him, pulling him closer, surprised that Sherlock didn't try to fight it. Mycroft hugged Sherlock as he cried for what seemed like hours but in reality was only minutes, allowing his shirt to dampen as the feelings that Sherlock had kept to himself flooded out all at once.

When Sherlock had stopped crying, he wiped his face and departed from his brother's arms like nothing had happened. Just as it always used to be. He looked at Mycroft, he wanted to be alone, to speak to John in private, knowing he would be able to hear him despite his unconscious state.

"Mycroft, leave the room, please. I want to speak to John."

"As you wish. If you need anything, I'm outside." Mycroft stood up and left the room upon his brother's request.

Sherlock moved the seat closer to John's bed, he was alone with him and the machines keeping him alive. The beeping of the heart monitor making the reality of the situation delve deeper and deeper into his mind.

"John," He started slowly, taking a deep breath before he said anything else "John, I want to thank you for what you did. For... Volunteering to give up your life to save mine. I guess we had expected it would turn out differently, that we wouldn't be here, in hospital. We...I...Never expected you to be dependant on a machine..." He paused for a second, taking another breath "...I just...Please don't die John. I need you and I know how much you will need me when you pull through, because you are going to pull through...I know you will..." He buried his head back into his hands and started crying again.

Mycroft watched through the window, his disliking of his own feelings getting the better of him. He sighed and looked down, feeling helpless, there was nothing he could do.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, John's condition hadn't got any better. In fact he had got worse, to a point where he had nearly died, and Sherlock was there when it happened.

Sherlock was in John's room, he had stayed there the whole night, even refusing to leave when Mycroft said he had to. He had spoken to him again, several times throughout the night. Many times he would wake up during the night because he was worried and he would look up to make sure John was still there, then he would speak to him. He would make sure that he made it clear he wanted John to recover, but he would also tell him how he was feeling.

The morning came, and Sherlock was woken up by Mycroft, who had gone home during the night. He looked up at him and gave a small smile, not a happy one, but not a sad one either.

"How are you doing this morning, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, now sitting down next to him and placing his hand on Sherlock's back.

"I don't care about how _I'm_ doing, I care more about how John's doing," He muttered, sitting up into Mycroft's hand "He didn't really have any problems in the night. I would know, I woke up several times."

Mycroft sighed softly, rubbing Sherlock's back because he knew it comforted him, though he was never too sure why. "Sherlock, you need to sleep somewhere that isn't going to hurt your back"

"Oh, be quiet will you Mycroft"

Mycroft rolled his eyes, still rubbing Sherlock's back. He seemed less tense than he was yesterday, which was always a good thing. But then he changed, he got scared, he got worried because John's heart monitor started to beep faster than it's supposed to. Sherlock looked up and then looked at John. "No" He muttered, slowly turning into a shout "No, John don't you dare"

Mycroft got up and ran out of the door, desperately shouting for a nurse, shouting what was happening and they needed to get here quickly. Three nurses ran into John's room to find Sherlock on the bed, hugging John and crying, shouting for him not to leave him.

"Sherlock, get off him," Mycroft said, trying to pull Sherlock from John. Sherlock was trying to fight back, but he needed to get off him "Sherlock, if you don't get off him, you'll make him worse. Let the nurses do their jobs"

Sherlock looked over at Mycroft when he said that he could make him worse, and he didn't want that to happen. He got off John and fell into Mycroft's arms, crying and feeling slightly faint. "Come on Sherlock, we need to leave and let them help John" Mycroft said, lifting his brother into his arms and carrying him out of the room. They waited outside the room on the chairs, of which Sherlock had taken up three. Mycroft was sat on the one chair with Sherlock's head in his lap and he was stroking his hair softly.

"Myc, please tell me he'll be okay" Sherlock whispered, his voice trembling

"Sherlock, John will be okay because he's a strong man. He fought in the war remember-"

"This is different Mycroft! We were in an explosion. That's completely different from getting shot in the shoulder. He's dying in there!" Sherlock raised his voice a little, starting to cry again. Mycroft comforted him once more, gently stroking his hair and not talking. Sherlock eventually fell asleep in his lap, he needed it.

Many minutes passed, but to Mycroft, they seemed like hours. Worry always had made time seem longer than it was. The nurses came out, they told him they had stabilized John, but they wouldn't be able to see him again for another hour. "That's...fine. I'll stay with Sherlock, I'll make sure to tell him John's okay." He sighed softly and looked down at Sherlock. Sherlock started to shift around and woke up slowly, looking up at Mycroft.

"Sherlock, you didn't sleep for long. You slept for about fifteen minutes. I know you are worried about John, but the nurses stabilized him, he's okay now" Mycroft said softly, looking down at Sherlock.

"J-John's okay? When can we see him?" He whispered

"In an hour Sherlock, go back to sleep" He stroked his hair and watched as he nodded and fell asleep again.

An hour passed and Sherlock had woken up just in time to be allowed back into John's room. Both brothers walked into John's room and looked at him. Colour seemed to be coming back to his face which made them hopeful he would wake up soon.

Sherlock took his place back beside John's bed and shuffled the chair closer to him. Mycroft watched as Sherlock took John's hand in his and started to speak to him again. "Th-That was a close one, huh John? I-I'm glad you're still alive...I'm just waiting for you to wake up now." He muttered and looked down, putting his head on John's hand "Mycroft said that...Because you were at war, you're strong and...You'll definitely pull through. T-take your time...please recover properly" He whispered "I miss you John"

Sherlock started to cry, holding John's hand against his head, wanting him to come back to him. Then Sherlock looked up...John's hand started to move, his fingers started to twitch.

"John?"


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock let John's hand go as he slowly started to wake up. "J-John? John are you awake?!" to which John replied with a grunt. He started to become aware of his surroundings as his eyes opened, though he couldn't speak. Sherlock looked over at Mycroft, a smile on his face as he hugged his brother "John's okay" He muttered and held Mycroft tightly.

The nurses came back in as Sherlock pressed the button behind John's head, calling them. They took care of him and helped him to wake up safely, adjusted his morphine, but kept the cannula in his nose. Sherlock smiled, he was happy his best friend was safe and well with no known damage to his memory. They checked him over and he no longer needed the life support, just the IV line and the breathing support.

John looked around, his eyes brightened up a little when he saw Sherlock and Mycroft, the two people he had desperately wanted to see, the two people he had heard speaking to him while he was in the coma. "H-Hey...Sherlock. Hey...M-Mycroft" He spoke, his voice quiet and slightly shaky.

"Hey John," Sherlock smiled, and held his hand again "Mycroft said you would wake up...That you were strong and he knew you could pull through. I knew he was right."

John laughed softly, the laugh slightly breathy "I heard you...I heard...Everything you said" He smiled and used his thumb to stroke along Sherlock's hand. "H-how long...How long was I out of it for?"

"Just over a week. I-I've been awake for a few days now, Mycroft has been here the whole time, except for the nights of course," He smiled and looked down at their hands "I've visited you every day I could."

Sherlock, John and Mycroft spoke for an hour, Sherlock telling John what had happened at the pool, John of course, being shocked and barely able to remember what happened. John fiddled around with the cannula occasionally before John turned to Sherlock "Sherlock, help me sit up please." He requested. Sherlock obliged and helped his friend sit up, being careful not to knock the wires or damage John more than he already was.

"How are feeling now, after being awake for an hour?" Sherlock asked him, noticing he was starting to get uncomfortable. He leaned down to the side of the bed and grabbed a cardboard container, just in case.

"Not too good Sherlock, not too good. I think...I think the morphine needs adjusting" He said, reaching over to it and fiddling with the level of the morphine.

"Are you sure John...You're going pale..." He muttered, watching him carefully. He watched as John gagged a little and quickly sat on the bed, the container in front of John's mouth and a hand on his back, rubbing it. John sighed, Sherlock knew.

"It's okay John, just get it out of your system" Sherlock sighed as he rubbed John's back as he watched his friend vomit, seeing him a vulnerable position upset him heavily. Sherlock turned to Mycroft "Can you go and get him some water please" He muttered, and Mycroft nodded and left the room. After a few minutes, John stopped vomiting and he sighed.

"S-sorry about that Sherlock" He muttered as Sherlock wiped his mouth with some tissue.

"Don't apologise, it's not your fault" He said, trying to reassure him. He knew how much John hated being ill in front of Sherlock "Mycroft will be back soon with some water."

Sherlock was right, Mycroft came back in thirty seconds after Sherlock had spoken to John. He handed the water to Sherlock and disposed of the container before taking a seat. Sherlock held the back of John's head and helped him drink the water "Careful John, small sips"

After a few minutes, John had settled down again and Sherlock was sat back in the seat. Sherlock looked over at the door as a doctor came in, holding a notepad and a pen.

"Hello Dr Watson, how are you feeling?" He asked "We're going to need to run a small test to determine when you can home"

John looked up at the doctor "What _exactly _does this test involve? I've just been sick" He said with a slight groan

"Don't worry, it's nothing like that. I just need to ask you a few questions and then check to see if you still have concussion."

"Right...Okay. How long will it take?"

"Not long." He smiled and started the test. He asked him questions like 'What day is it today?' and 'Do you know where you are, and why you are here?', to which John answered them perfectly, and then waited as the doctor tested for concussion. It was the usual procedure, how well could his reflexes respond and how well his pupils where dilating. John seemed fine, and the doctor smiled.

"John, you are free to go home tomorrow. Sherlock was free to go home the day after he pulled through, but obviously he chose not to" He smiled softly and then left the room.

John looked over at Sherlock, who was smiling and now shuffling his chair towards him again. He took Sherlock's hand in his "Thank you for staying, Sherlock. You didn't have-" John was interrupted by Sherlock

"Of course I had to John. You're my best friend, I couldn't leave. What if you died? The last I would have seen of you before seeing you in the morgue would be under all that rubble at the pool." He explained "I would hate myself. Which is why I stayed, because you're my best friend...My only friend"

John smiled softly, his eyes welling up a little "Sherlock, if you were in the position I am in, I would have stayed no matter what."

Mycroft sighed and rolled his eyes "Are you sure you two aren't secretly dating?!"

Sherlock glared at him "No Mycroft, we aren't." He looked over at John "Not that I wouldn't be uncomfortable with it, just that I know John doesn't feel that way about me."

The next day came and John was taken of the IV, the cannula and the morphine. The doctor handed Sherlock some medicines that John would need to take over the course of the next few days, and when John felt necessary. "Thank you, doctor." Sherlock smiled and looked over at John "Let's go."

John nodded and followed Sherlock out to Mycroft's car as he had offered to drive them home. They both sat in the back of the car, silent throughout the whole journey, and no closeness except the comforting hand holding, John reassuring Sherlock that he was still there and Sherlock reassuring John the same. They got home, got out of the car and John collapsed.

Sherlock stared at John "M-Mycroft...John just collapsed" He said, his voice slightly panicked


End file.
